


The Peace Between our Hearts

by Kissanminttu



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F, Feels, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian Sex, Masturbation, Romance, Shameless Smut, Violence, non-canon, only the start is a bit dark, watch me take full advantage of banshee mode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 02:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15920920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kissanminttu/pseuds/Kissanminttu
Summary: Azeroth wasn't at peace and neither was Jaina's heart.Months had passed since their collision by the nature’s embrace. Jaina wondered if her Dark Queen had succumbed to love or if she had forgotten the mage entirely. Sylvanas had many strings treading through her undead heart, but only one of them still wrung her.





	The Peace Between our Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there beautiful people :') This is a sequel to my fic Nature's Healing. Special thanks to Colluctancy who survived through betaing and bears with my daily gay wailing ♡ Have a pleasant reading!

Rotten horrors lingered in the air. Shadows hid the unmoving forms, leaving the smell of death to pervade one’s senses. Amongst the corpses and filth, continuous whispers of unknown origins haunted the environment. It could’ve been the wind: the breath of nature lost in the underground maze. Perhaps spirits, repeating their last outcries over and over.

For the living, Undercity was an unbearable place.

Lady Proudmoore tried to remain strong. The chains clanked above her head as her body faintly flinched during her concentration. She had come to terms with the previous captive’s corpse curled up in the corner of the cell. It no longer terrified her. More than that, it served as a reminder of the destiny that could await her.

Jaina was focusing on closing the whispers out of her mind. At times they sounded like a horde of screaming bats. In another moment, it was clearly a distant voice, asking something in a language she couldn’t understand. The world of sounds made her aware of the rat families coursing around the bricks. Some steps away from her cell, the poisonous river of sludge drained painfully slowly.

Lady Jaina was unable to lose the nausea in her stomach. The odour of the toxic flow tortured her.

“Y-You must let the Queen know of my presence. I know you haven’t informed her,” Jaina threatened the undead man on the other side of the iron bars. He wouldn’t stop rattling his teeth, though Jaina was the one with a trembling jaw. Torch sconces were the only means of warmth in the sewers.

“Oh yes, please, let her know, the pretty pinkskin must be the favourite Alliance scum of our Lady!” echoed from the neighbouring cell, accompanied by ill-mannered laughter. “Release me too, so I can join in the fun. The pinkskins bleed the most!”

The undead guard turned to glance at the suspended human. Jaina tried to invoke him by a helpless expression. Her arms would tear off if this continued much longer. The guard turned his back. Jaina sighed for the thousand time. She had no more tears to cry. The previous ones had left her eyes weary and cheeks sticky.

Of course, she didn’t know if Lady Windrunner had been informed. Fear of the worst was consuming her hour by hour. Jaina suspected at least two days had passed – no sign of the Lady. The human wasn't sure why she had put so much trust in the Banshee Queen. It had been _months_ since their meeting by the healing pool. This was Jaina’s first attempt to reach her again – and completely cursed by failure.

Lady Proudmoore didn’t wonder if atrocious thoughts dwelled in one’s mind when this was their home. Bone rattling, strange slithering and rat squeaking from day to day – not to mention the stench, the _horrid stench_. If Jaina thought about it longer than a second, she was close to puking.

The loving spark of time they shared… could be easily forgotten in the terrors of this place. To survive here, hardening oneself from all vulnerabilities was a necessity.

Azeroth wasn't at peace and neither was Jaina's heart. The thoughts of Sylvanas had lingered in her mind for all these months. She had dreamt of her several times: multiple nightmares as well as… the kind that made Jaina rather aware of her desires.

But lately, the Alliance had tightened its grip on the Horde, cutting their forces significantly. Jaina didn’t expect the Queen to waste any time thinking about her. Her silly human heart kept pondering over the elf, regardless did she try to supress her feelings or not, the results didn’t vary.

Lady Proudmoore had nodded off to weary slumber when her ears picked up something promising for the first time since her capture. A heavy door bashed open upstairs.

“M-My lady, you’ve wished yourself not to be interrupted duri—” a jittery voice got cut short. Jaina heard the sound of heavy thudding nearing her cell. The twisted neck of a pale man appeared to her vision, rolled down the spiral staircase. He let out a painful wheeze.

Finally, the Banshee Queen showed herself, stepping over the man’s body. Fury possessed her presence. The red hood rested on her shoulders, exposing her face shadowed by dark powers. She wasn’t in her usual armour, but lighter leather and high climbing boots. A longbow was fastened to her back.

“My Queen,” Jaina called quietly, attracting the Dark Lady’s gaze. Tears returned to the mage’s eyes, this time of relief, for now she might have a chance of surviving. Lady Windrunner bit her teeth harshly together. Languished Lady Jaina hung shackled in the cell, her cold bitten body shivering in a pair of breeches and a bodice.

“The keys, jailor,” Sylvanas didn’t grant the small man a single glance. The jailor’s bones clattered in fear as he removed the keys by his waist. He didn’t beg for mercy – he knew the end had found him. The keys exchanged, Sylvanas lifted the undead by his neck and threw him to be purged by the toxic river.

“These useless _rotbrains_!” Sylvanas screamed, following the man’s doom. The little skin he had burnt away in bubbles. “I can never step out of this Hell. These creatures can’t be trusted with the _simplest_ of tasks,” Lady Windrunner directed her shouts to every servant lurking in the many floors of the circular space. She growled under her breath in frustration.

The elf threw the door of Jaina’s cell open with a slam, not able to calm her mind clouded by rage. It showed through the bloodshot eyes, blind anger making them glow more than usual. The tall elf stood before Jaina, pressing close as she reached for the iron chains.

“My Lady, it’s okay,” Jaina whispered, “I’m okay. You’re here now,” she couldn’t tell if she was comforting herself or Sylvanas, who remained silent in her unstable state. The human gasped loudly as her other arm was freed and the numb limb fell to her side. She leaned partially on Sylvanas’ frame, head seeking her shoulder. Instinctively Jaina breathed in the elf’s scent: the fresh breeze of old nature, green leaves and rich moss.

“By the Gods, I was scared,” she burst out to whimper, unintentionally cracking the shell she had been building for the past days, “I was-I was so afraid, you would betray me—” She was silenced by the pain of her other arm, released and the pain overwhelming.

Lady Sylvanas stayed stiff and said no words. To be briefly held in her arms was enough comfort for Jaina. A tiny leaf fell off Sylvanas’ platinum hair.

“Can you walk, Lady Proudmoore?” The Dark Lady asked, lips brushing past Jaina’s ear. Her velvet voice was back to serene, but the stare laid upon Jaina was still cold. Jaina nodded timidly.

“You two,” Sylvanas turned her head. A pair of servants were subtly dragging the undead man’s body from the end of the stairs. “No. Look at me. Help Lady Proudmoore upstairs. Bathe her. Feed her. Grant her _anything_ she requests.” The Dark Lady’s tone hadn’t ever been more serious. Hooded heads bowing, the servants started to act upon the task.  

“Ooh, I wasn’t wrong,” the mocking voice rose once more... “She _is_ our Lady’s favourite!”

Lady Jaina was assisted in climbing the narrow staircase. Sylvanas' ears twitched as she detected where the comment had come from. The last sound emerging from the dungeon was the unmistakable release of a bowstring.  

♡

_Dear Lady Proudmoore,_

_Let my servant apply this salve on your skin. It will free you of your bodily pains and wounds. Galythien doesn’t talk, but she listens._

_There will be dinner for you in two hours. If you wish to leave before that, you have my full understanding._

_\- Lady Sylvanas_

Jaina reread the note Sylvanas had sent her. Galythien appeared to be a blood elf with a kind smile and warm hands. Jaina had undressed the towel around her shoulders and let the woman rub the salve on her. She couldn’t have the elf arrive for nothing, especially when Sylvanas’ worry was the reason behind her presence.

The herb mixture bore a heavy scent. It wasn’t necessarily a bad smell, but truly told of the product’s medical nature. _God_ , she wouldn’t complain about any smells after two days in the suffocating sewers.

The stony fireplace heated the room arranged for her. Jaina sat near the restful flames, a wooden stool placed on a white pelt that felt soft between her toes. The silent blood elf moved around her, rubbing the green salve around Jaina’s upper body. Circular motions blended the medicine, leaving Jaina’s skin soft and warm, some spots faintly tingling. The salve contained some numbing ingredients; but not so much that Jaina was out of her mind.

“Mmm, that is so nice,” Jaina got positively surprised as the elf gently massaged her shoulders. The mage couldn’t recall being massaged. The atmosphere lulled in relaxation, sounds of burning wood dancing in the background. She hadn’t expected the guest chamber to be so comforting: the room was of hearty temperature and the wooden decorations reminded her of home.

Jaina nodded off on her seat, close to passing out. The kind elf showed her a sympathetic smile. Jaina got dressed in a simple woolen dress of navy blue colour. The rest of the time she spent dreaming on the bed, inhaling the scent of clean sheets and figuring out what Sylvanas would be offering to her.

♡

“I was too harsh on my Forsaken… My temper got the best of me,” Lady Windrunner emptied her wine goblet. “I had instructed them not to bother me during my hunting trips,” the elf sighed, covering her eyes.

She was ultimately responsible for her own disappointment. Who was she to judge her subjects about trust when she couldn’t even trust herself? She hadn’t specified to anybody (except herself) that in case young Lady Proudmoore was to appear, she must be handled like the most precious of guests.

Jaina was gobbling down her meal on the other side of the table. Her plate was emptying faster than a Lady’s should have. Sylvanas mumbled something in Thalassian. Since hearing it the first time as a child, Jaina had wished to understand the beautiful language.

“What was that?” Jaina impaled a chopped carrot with her fork.

“I’m sorry,” there was genuine guilt in her apology. The soft light of the table’s candelabrum shimmered curiously on Sylvanas’ skin. “I could kneel before you to be forgiven,” the Banshee Queen continued.

“Hey,” Jaina abandoned the cutlery and wiped her mouth with a napkin. Then she extended her arm across the clothed table and unwrapped Sylvanas’ hand around the golden wine goblet. While Jaina crossed their fingers, Sylvanas’ other hand remained smoothing her lowered eyebrows.

“I won’t deny you from kneeling, but you could also do it later,” Jaina smiled wryly, making Sylvanas scoff in amusement. “The salve you provided helped greatly – and this steak? These _carrots_? I haven’t eaten anything comparable in years,” the mage eyed her salvaged plate. “I know nothing comes the easy way in this world. Let’s focus on the present moment again, shall we?” Jaina squeezed Sylvanas’ cold fingers tightly between her own.

“Nothing comes easy except you,” Sylvanas continued the tease, picking up the goblet back to her lips. The colour of roses shaded Jaina’s face.

“Is-is that an insult?” She looked around her, suddenly remembering that they might not even be alone in the dark space.

“How could it be, Lady Proudmoore? I admire how heated you get during our peace negotiations: it truly tells this is a matter of heart to you.”

“Quit it, right now, Sylvanas.”

“Judging by how excited you were, I expected you would have arrived sooner,” Sylvanas plucked a tiny grape from another chalice.

“This is your way of saying you missed me, isn’t it?” Jaina’s smile didn’t relent. Her heart wasn’t alone in this. She flinched as Sylvanas threw the grape at her. The dark fruit hit her face before getting lost in her cleavage. Jaina looked unbelievingly at the cunning elf, who had slipped another grape between her lips.

“I like toying with the Alliance, it is general knowledge,” she shrugged, yet another grape in her fingertips. “Catch it,” Sylvanas grinned, throwing the fruit to the same direction as before. In her mind Jaina refused, but gave in after all, though her attempt futile, her mouth not reaching even close to the grape. 

“Why am I always the one getting embarrassed?” Jaina decided it was her turn to get the upper hand. She smacked Sylvanas’ fingers away from the chalice and snatched a grape of her own. Sylvanas looked at her like she had started a challenge. Jaina tossed the grape, trying to get extra difficulty to the throw… Without much effort, Sylvanas caught it. Of course. Jaina rolled her eyes.

“I win,” the Banshee Queen smiled and gulped the fruit down. “What is my reward?”

“Perhaps I’ll tickle your ears a little bit,” the pointy duo twitched as they were mentioned and Jaina was about to lose it over the cuteness.

She loved every second of their light-hearted banter. Mere talking with the Dark Lady excited her. The subject could’ve been anything between the earth and the sky. She wanted to hear and get to know Sylvanas, the one who studied Jaina’s features with heart eyes and kissed her softly.

The elf rose from her seat, the wine goblet in hand, scooting closer to Jaina. Sylvanas’ fine night robe had loosened by the waist’s tie, making it droop by her other shoulder. She had no intention to fix it. Instead, she pushed Jaina’s chair away from the table.

“Ears sound more like a reward for you, lady Jaina,” the Banshee Queen sat sideways on Jaina’s lap, fully aware how weighty she must be for the small mage. Jaina fought back her blush. She wrapped her arms around the elf’s waist. The suddenly increased intimacy quickened the pace of her heart. Jaina wouldn’t be surprised if the elf could hear it.

Sylvanas pressed her nose to Jaina’s hair and forehead. She took a longing inhale of the mage’s fragrance.

“You’re so tall and slender,” Jaina whispered. With her face, she gathered feather-light brushes around Sylvanas’ collarbones. She treasured the touches in her mind and heart, wanting to remember the feel of her smooth skin for weeks.

“Hmm,” Sylvanas hummed thoughtfully. “We are called _high_ elves for a reason,” she grinned, her eyes closed. Jaina tugged the silky night robe, making it slide down the Queen’s shoulder. The mage leaned closer and let the tip of her nose ghost over the icy skin of Sylvanas’ cleavage.

“There are eyes following my every move in this place,” Sylvanas spoke quietly behind Jaina’s head. She ran a hand through the mage’s long curls. Jaina encircled the banshee’s breast, lips hovering and faintly nudging her nipple’s surroundings.

“Even the kind that can see in the dark,” Sylvanas held Jaina by the back of her neck. Her fingers played with the silver chain of Jaina’s necklace.

“Where do you want to go?” the undead elf felt her skin being briefly sucked, “Name it – I will get us _anywhere_ ,” the same pair of warm lips promised.

“This world has no place for us,” the corners of Sylvanas’ mouth drew suddenly downwards. She took a sip of her wine and rose from Jaina’s lap, giving the human’s cheek a lingering touch as she stepped farther.

As if the Banshee Queen had known to expect it, there was a loud knock by the door of the room. Sylvanas tied and straightened her silky robe and watched Jaina sitting still on her seat. Hurt impaired the human’s expression. The Queen’s attention was demanded by a voice behind the door, making clear that the Dark Lady was urgently needed.

“Rest well, Lady Proudmoore,” Sylvanas bid to the human. She didn’t answer.

Alone in the candle light, Jaina sighed.

She poured herself some wine, its taste as sour as her thoughts.

♡

Sleep didn’t embrace Jaina that night. Her mind was bothered by a cloud of thoughts, a swirl of dreams and regrets. She hoped Sylvanas would come to erase her troubles. Lie beside her, bask Jaina in her presence. No explanations would be needed, no sentences or words. Only them, side by side, lost in each other’s beauty.

That is what she wanted – and that is why she was selfish. Sylvanas was held back by her responsibilities and her position as the leader of the Horde. As she should be. Jaina on the other hand… “what am I doing”, was the constant question she presented to herself. What was she even doing here?

The light had died in her room. Only darkness accompanied Jaina; and it was hugging her to the point of discomfort. She summoned up a spark of fire and guided it to the tailed off fireplace, where some logs remained.

It had been silly to think they could spend the night together. Right here, in the Forsaken den. She was acting without reason. Jaina knew only of one power that could pull such uprising in her. A power she had always been weak to.

Love.

The mage bit her lip.

Jaina lay on her stomach, head turned to the side, maroon sheets hiding her figure. Closing her eyes, she reached between her thighs for comfort. She imagined themselves on Sylvanas’ throne. _The Banshee Queen had carried her there in her arms, placing Jaina sideways on her lap. Jaina clung to the collar of her cloak, entwined in a kiss with her elf._

She kept herself clenched between some fingers and massaged over and over the same spot. _Sylvanas roamed through her jawline, teasing her with tender nibbles. She complimented the warmth of her skin, the scent of salty water that resided in her hair, the curves her hands passed by. Touch by touch, Jaina was forgetting all the hurt in the world._

Jaina’s hands swam further between her. She kept weight on her nub and pleased herself with repeating tweaks of her fingertips. _Sylvanas separated Jaina’s knees, slid a hand to her flower, stroked its petals. Jaina wanted her to enter right away, without care, and she tugged Sylvanas’ hand by the wrist._

“Nas,” Jaina whispered, a drip of saliva escaping to the sheets. Her muscles stiffened, lower body moved subtly. _Sylvanas’ fingers played deep up in her essence. Jaina kept her thighs lifted near her abdomen, head thrown back and serving out her neck to the nibbling loving elf._

Sweat had risen to Jaina’s forehead: she was nudging her nerves just the right way, imagination feeding her lust.

In her arousal, Jaina failed to react quickly to the change happening around her. The blanket rose by her toes, a whim of air crept under it. She took frail at the feeling, completely off guard. Pure darkness was entangling around Jaina’s body. It grasped her neck, veiled her shoulders. Her breath hitched, the wisp pinning her against the mattress and a tight squeeze incapacitating her limbs.

The shadow found Jaina’s busied groin. The haze converted into a cold hand whose touch sent shivers all around Jaina’s spine.

“Let me,” Jaina heard an all too familiar voice whisper by her ear, the hand tugging her own pair away from her womanhood. Jaina squirmed under the heavy weight of Sylvanas’ materializing body. Her bubble of anxiety burst, bringing frustrated relief in return.

“Argh!” Jaina groaned soundly, jerking her hands away, “you _stupid_ , sexy banshee, do you know how much you just scared me?” she twisted her left hand and pulled the woman’s silky hair. It didn’t help, Sylvanas was too busy sucking her earlobe, only letting out a delighted purr. “You can’t do that _ever_ again,” the ashamed mage pouted. Even the door of the room hadn’t opened. She was not fine with this kind of lurking.

“You just called an undead woman sexy, lady Proudmoore,” Sylvanas crooned on top of her. Her fingertips were steadily drawing the soft path of Jaina’s slit. The mage moaned.

“Turn around. I want to kiss you,” Sylvanas said frankly. The weight on Jaina eased. The Banshee Queen, still in the same loose night robe as earlier, straddled Jaina between her legs and arms.

“I thought there was no place for us in this world,” Jaina whispered, purposely looking everywhere but to Sylvanas’ eyes. Sylvanas grabbed her chin.

“Forgive me, it was foolish of me to say that. I—no, we. We will _create_ a place for us,” Sylvanas said in a serious tone, almost growling behind her lips. Jaina lifted her gaze. She could see how hard the elven woman was trying to read her emotions. It wasn’t Sylvanas’ best asset. But Jaina had the feeling that right now, her undead companion was being honest with herself – and that is what Jaina cared about.

“You know…” Jaina traced the line of Sylvanas’ jaw. “You could have let me finish at least,” the mage grinned shyly.

“I can remain watching, in case you would like to continue, Lady Jaina,” Sylvanas was dropping herself to a lounging position on the side of the bed, but Jaina pulled the woman by her robe, initially intending to steal a swift kiss but quickly realizing that she'd rather have the elf's lips on her own for an eternity. During the intertwine, she stripped the Queen of her thin cloth.

Sylvanas’ canines clashed twice with Jaina’s teeth, out of the hunger and drowziness they both bore. Her hand travelled back to Jaina’s thighs, touches dragging around her soft abdomen. Jaina clung to the upper back of the high elf, focusing so dearly on her mouth’s movements that she forgot all the other caressing she could be doing. The mage spun her tongue in Sylvanas’ mouth, pressing their bodies together as tightly as possible.

“I’m not leaving, my sweet,” Sylvanas promised in the softest voice she could muster. Jaina was holding onto her like it was their farewell embrace. “I will take care of you, now, tomorrow – and the days after that,” with every word she placed a kiss on Jaina’s face.

Sylvanas would not run away. Not from Jaina, not from herself. That day in the forest, Jaina had showed her there was other emotions than anger worth preserving. The mage had given her _a chance_. And Sylvanas Windrunner was not about disappointing.

“Now, tell me what you were thinking of, so I can make it true,” she smiled at Jaina.

“I wasn’t thinking of you,” Jaina blurted out, a bit too fast to sound convincing.

“No?” Sylvanas squinted her eyes. “Who is ‘ _Nas_ ’ then?” Sylvanas still had the hold of Jaina’s lower parts, now toying with the folds by flicking her fingers.

Jaina’s mouth gaped slightly open: “You’re an actual pervert.” Had the elf followed her the whole time?

“And you are a liar, my darling. Try again. Tell me the truth, Lady Jaina.” Jaina was convinced that Sylvanas didn’t know the slightest feeling of shame.

“Absolutely not,” the human refused. The elf’s fingers kept turning restlessly on her vulva.

“We were on my throne, weren’t we?” Sylvanas presented, looking downwards for a moment, to watch her hand stroking Jaina. The mage had done some trimming to the cute heap of blonde hair. Sylvanas’ smile was smug as ever as she noticed Jaina not answering to her.

“Tsk, tsk,” Sylvanas clicked her tongue, “what a naughty mage you are,” she teased, but stopped the pestering after her sentence. Sylvanas started to lift herself to an angle closer to Jaina’s legs, but the mage captured her free wrist. Stay close, she begged. Sylvanas melted.

The elf lay on her side, an arm under her head and guided Jaina to mirror her position. Only a hairbreadth of space kept their faces apart and Jaina occasionally feathered her lips against the elf’s. Her eyes were closed as she devoted her senses to the bodily indulgence. Sylvanas’ gaze rested on the mage. Studying Jaina’s face was a subject she couldn’t get enough of. The faint bending of her eyebrows, a quiver of her lips or a swallow sliding down her throat; all of them reflected the movements happening on the heart of her arousal.

Sylvanas’ hand enchanted Jaina’s hips to roll into her fingers. Her blushing bosom pressed against the smaller pair of breasts. They breathed in synch, shoulders softly heaving up and down. Jaina mimicked Sylvanas’ artistry and puckered up the elf’s slit in her palm. The Dark Lady replied with a playful shove of her hips. The smile Sylvanas saw on the mage’s lips was the embodiment of infatuation.

Jaina kissed her again, a whimper getting muffled between their mouths as Sylvanas dipped her hand further. She bent her fingers back and forth, scooping in the tight pool. Jaina bounced subtly in according to the rhythm. Sylvanas locked their lips, parting when Jaina had something to say.

“Ever since you touched me I have been like this—Ahh,” the lovely sigh snapped Jaina’s thought process. 

“Like what?” Sylvanas was curious.

“Horny. Aching. Restless,” she let the words out during the strides of the Queen’s hand. Jaina opened her eyes to look at the elf. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world right now,” the sultry mage stated. There wasn’t only pent up lust in her, all her yearning and passion were blooming out as well.

“You flatter me,” her elf sweetly answered. Sylvanas switched to stroke her slowly… Into the far end of her slippery essence. The extension had Jaina shuddering. The mage apologized, after some rubbing her hand had frozen in place on Sylvanas inner thighs.

“I’m sorry—I can’t, at the same time, it’s—” she panted, too overwhelmed by her own heat. Sylvanas pushed her buttons too well.

“Shh,” Sylvanas silenced Jaina with her lips, “No apologizing. I don’t rest, I have the whole night for you.” The elf then rolled herself on top of Jaina. She supported herself with her right arm, creating some space between their upper bodies. The human rode her steady hand, milky white breasts bouncing happily in a round motion.

If anything, a hair tie would suit them both. The ends of Sylvanas’ blonde locks tickled Jaina as she hovered above her. Jaina’s own hair was a complete mess; tresses sticking everywhere on her sweaty skin. The curling digits didn’t let her go easy. Sylvanas would knead her till she collapsed; that Jaina had learnt on their first time.

 “Good mage…” Sylvanas kissed Jaina’s ear as the girl grunted during her muscle jerking climax. The mage remained under Sylvanas’ control as she kept her fingers dug into the crevasse. Jaina’s squirming was an addictive sight.

“Nas—” she plead, roughly gripping Sylvanas’ wrist.

Finally, Sylvanas withdrew herself, resulting in Jaina’s blissful exhale of air.

“How do you know me so well?” Jaina asked the elf who settled back to lie next to her. Jaina threw their blanket away, needing to cool down.   

“I paid attention last time,” Sylvanas answered. She tasted the tips of her fingers, biting a nail between her canines. Jaina ignored this daring act, not giving Sylvanas the pleasure to deepen her blush once again. She had paid attention as well. The Queen couldn’t properly sense her caresses, but she loved to feel Jaina’s weight and clenching.

“Turn around,” Jaina quipped, shifting on her place. Still licking her fingers, Sylvanas nonchalantly agreed to the idea, turning her back to the mage. Jaina’s nectar tasted as lovely as last time…

Smack! Sylvanas’ body jerked slightly forward.

“Oh?” the Queen batted her eyelashes, brows rising in surprisal.

Jaina had slapped a rather a sensible palm against her left buttock. The mage started to grope Sylvanas with both hands. The eager back rub caught her off guard, but it came to be rather pleasant. Jaina felt her firm posterior thoroughly, warm hands travelling and squeezing every curve.

“I see…” Sylvanas mumbled thoughtfully to herself, relaxing her upper body on the bed. “You’ve wanted to do that for a while. I can grant you your fun.” She closed her glowing gaze.

“I can see _you_ are enjoying it, silly elf,” Jaina grabbed Sylvanas by her hipbone and spread her cheeks with another hand, getting a clear sight over her womanhood. The neat flower gaped shyly open, waiting for Jaina’s actions. Her lupine shaded skin looked so soft and smooth. Jaina wondered whether she should start by kissing her. The Queen had really found pleasure in it.

Sylvanas’ feet nudged Jaina’s bicep. “Don’t waste your time watching.”

Jaina took some saliva from her lips. She applied it to Sylvanas’ vulva with a few lengthy rubs, from her rear’s side to the front. Then Jaina shoved her middle and ring fingers up in the woman. The elf’s back arched simultaneously with the delving.

Sylvanas called her name, pleased like an animal who had just achieved the petting of her dreams. Jaina kept pressing her by the hipbone, the fingers inside Sylvanas directing towards the Queen’s backside. Her pushes were firm yet unrushed. The muscles of Jaina’s forearm tensed up by every thrust and Sylvanas’ lower body moved into the heavy touch.

Every push made her wetter. Sylvanas held a pillow under her head, close to tearing the cotton open. She was taking deep, _deep_ breaths, trying to remain collected.

Jaina smiled. She turned her palm around, ring and index finger switching places, and started a rapid penetration. Short, relentless strokes of a determined hand that challenged the Queen’s body and nerves. Sylvanas wouldn’t experience any less thorough of a treatment than the one she always gifted to Jaina.

“Moan,” Jaina told her, plunging inside, no stop in sight. Sylvanas writhed in her hands, the elf’s nails abusing the pillow and ears subtly trembling time by time.

“For Jaina Proudmoore, I just might,” she panted, turning her head to cast a frustrated face at her lover. Jaina felt it in her heart. Sylvanas tucked some of her hair back behind her pointy ear; a lovely habit Jaina had noticed the Queen constantly practicing.

Jaina pushed the Queen’s legs apart and pulled herself between the thighs.

“Tell me you missed me,” Jaina whimpered, an unexpected quivering capturing her lips, “I need to know.” A great ship of emotions sailed towards the waters of her mind with lightning speed. Jaina didn’t want it. Not _now_. But she couldn’t stop it. Sylvanas saw the verge of tears rising to her blue eyes. Jaina knew their moment was ruined.

“Oh, my beloved,” Sylvanas cooed. Jaina struggled visibly against her wave of feelings, but the heavy thoughts slowed down her fingers. Sylvanas vanished completely for a sheer second, a wisp of darkness and Jaina’s wet fingers stalling in her place. The mage got pushed on her back. Sylvanas took her position back on top of Jaina, the shadowy realm undressing around her slim figure.

“How sweet you are.”

Their lips met.

“I dreamt of you for many days and for countless of nights,” the Queen cupped Jaina’s face, foreheads resting together after their kiss.

She described the blushing of Jaina’s cheeks, the lines of her back and the dreamy sighs of the Queen’s name: all the beautiful things that whirled in her cruel mind, always finding their way back, even after her darkest moments, reminding her of the existence of light. Sylvanas told her how she had worn the blue cloak after a bath, imagining herself in Jaina’s next embrace. Jaina had to know.

“So, do not weep, for if my heart was still alive, it would beat for you, my love.” Sylvanas’ thumbs brushed away the tears that now ran from the mage’s eyes. Irony, warmth and joy. Jaina had read hundreds of books and none of their words were as beautiful as Sylvanas’. Jaina hugged the elf tightly, face buried into her silken hair.

“I’m sorry. This is stupid, all of sudden. I don’t know what came over me,” she mumbled, nose stuffy. She hadn’t meant to unravel herself like that, but neither had she expected such a passionate response from Sylvanas. Her insides fluttered with the knowledge that the Queen thought of her similarly.

“My fondness for you knows no limits,” Sylvanas kissed her ear. Jaina’s favourite spot. “Store my words in your heart. For reasons that cause me great displeasure, I act opposite to them at times. But you bear the truth now, little one.” Jaina didn’t know it, but she gave Sylvanas courage. Bravery to let her words flow freely, without the remorse of them flying right back to her face.

“Don’t make me cry again…” the mage lowered herself from the elf’s neck. Her face was swollen and red as the evening sun.  

Sylvanas chuckled light heartedly. “No,” she dragged her cold lips along Jaina’s jawline before finding a spot on her neck to seize with her teeth.

“I’d like you to continue with your previous intention,” Sylvanas’ grin drew wide against Jaina’s heated skin. “That Jaina seemed to be worth my moaning.” 

♡

**Author's Note:**

> How many gay stars?  
> Also, I will mark this as a oneshot, but I was thinking if I come up with more ideas I'll add the chapters here.


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